


Dead On Arrival

by AuroraKant



Series: Batfam Week2020 [7]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Batfam Week 2020, Bruce is biologically the oldest after Alfred, Gen, They are all Vampires, Vampire AU, but all of them have been vampires longer, or got turned into Vampires, or not so sexy, sexy sexy vampires, sometimes they talk about how they died, they never talk about the sexy part of being a vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23147653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraKant/pseuds/AuroraKant
Summary: Bruce had been a Vampire for a little over three months, when suddenly his door bell rings. In front of it is his neighbor Tim Drake. Who should be dead after a kidnapping incident over 20 years prior. And yet here he is, no day past the age of 16. What else is Bruce supposed to do besides inviting him and his brood inside?Inspired bythis postfrom incorrectbatfamDay 7: Nightmares | Time-Travel |Mythology AU
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Duke Thomas & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne
Series: Batfam Week2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657645
Comments: 37
Kudos: 248





	Dead On Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my dudes! ^^  
> We did it! Batfam Week is finished and this is my somewhat wacky take on the last day!  
> I was already 4000 words into this chapter when I realized I had an already written time-travel story saved in my drafts but it was already too late!  
> I hope you can enjoy it anyways!   
> Love and critique is always welcome!

Bruce was slowly getting the hang of this whole vampire bit. There were rules, but most of them were easily circumvent: He couldn’t see himself in most of the Manor mirrors but the cheap ones from home depot managed just fine. He couldn’t go out in direct sunlight, but cloudy weather was okay, and he did live in Gotham. All the meetings he couldn’t make it too, could easily be redirected to his laptop and dealt with via Skype.

Really, Bruce had it under control. Would he have liked to be warned or asked for consent before his ex-girlfriend bit him and turned him into an un-dead bloodsucking monster? Yes, certainly. Had he killed anyone yet? No, but that might have been because he impulsively fired anyone working on the Manor grounds. And because the Manor had a rat problem. He had it under control really. Completely. No need to worry. He was an adult man after all. This would change nothing. Nothing.

It was in the middle of this little not-freak-out session that the doorbell rang. Bruce wasn’t expecting anyone. Maybe the mail man? But then again, it was 9 pm. His steps were slow, measured, when he made his way towards the front hall. He grabbed one of the decorative swords that hung on the wall while nearing the entrance. They had hung there since the thirties. One of Bruce’s great-grandfathers had apparently collected them. He might be a businessman, but Bruce knew how to defend himself.

Which was why he was so surprised, that a teenager was standing in front of his door when he opened it. When he saw who stood there, he discreetly vanished the sword into one of the umbrella stands. The kid had his hand raised, as if he was contemplating ringing the bell again, but when he saw Bruce he let it drop, going for a non-threatening smile instead:

“Hey!”

“Hello?”

Why was a strange teenager standing in front of his door? Why was that teenager acting as if they should know each other? What the heck was going on here?

“Are we gonna stare at each other any longer or are you going to invite me in?”

“Come in?”

“Thanks!”

Too late Bruce realized that he had just let some weird kid into his home. Invited him in. The one rule Bruce hadn’t yet found a work around for: Having to be invited to be allowed to step foot inside a house or dwelling. Now Bruce was pretty sure that the kid was a vampire, but there was no way to ask that in polite conversation.

“Do I know you?”

“Nah, but I bet once you do, we will be inseparable!”

The kid had just started walking and Bruce, feeling really out of his depth, had taken to following him.

“Fresh! Your mansion looks so hardcore! This is like the most radical vampire home I have ever seen!”

“What? What vampire?”

At that the teenager turned around and raised an eyebrow. Yeah, okay, Bruce could see how not smooth that had been.

“So, are you one, too? A vampire, I mean. And what the hell is your name?”

“Oh, sorry. Sometimes I forget what it’s like to be new to this. Yeah, I’m a vampire, too. My name is Tim. Tim Drake.”

“Drake? Like the Drake murders twenty plus years ago, that were never solved?”

“Yep, that’s me and my parents. They’re dead now. I’m technically dead, too, but you get my point. I’m staying fresh, if you get my drift!”

At that Tim wiggled his eyebrows. Bruce mind was lagging. Badly. The Drake’s had been the next-door neighbors to the Wayne’s. Until that tragedy 1997 when a burglar killed the parents and kidnapped their son. Only apparently Tim hadn’t been kidnapped, he had been turned into a vampire. Wow.

Bruce remembered hearing about it months later when he returned from his boarding school for a summer in a silent Manor. He had never known Tim back then. Not really. That year that Tim was older had seemed like a century to the 15-year old Bruce, and Bruce was way too antisocial for it to work, anyway. It was weird now, to look at the kid and see that he hadn’t changed since he was 16.

“What are you doing here? Now?”

“Ah, you know us un-dead homies have to stay in contact, and when Talia told Damian that she had turned the legendary Bruce Wayne, I had to check it out myself. I mean, we’re basically neighbors. And now that I’m here… just oh, snap!”

Tim had moved away from Bruce, further exploring the Manor while Bruce could do nothing except trail behind. Apparently, Talia had known all these vampires all along. Apparently, there was a network. What the hell? What was going on?

“What?”

Tim stood in front of the giant staircase leading towards the second floor, staring at the grand chandelier and the classy decorations Bruce had never quite managed to update.

“This is the perfect home for a century old vampire, man! This is so fly! Especially since you’re a baby. A literal child. This is so crazy!”

“I don’t appreciate being called a baby, thanks. I am a 38-year old man.”

“And I am 39, chronologically. As I say, a baby. But don’t worry, I’m baby too!”

Tim was laughing now, and Bruce had lost all control over the conversation. This was getting uncomfortable real quick.

“As you can see, I am here. Can you go now? Can I retract that invitation?”

“Sorry, no take backs! But I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’m not the most socially suave of the bunch. Sorry, again!”

And Tim did seem to regret his more extreme outbursts. He didn’t blush, but Bruce had the vague feeling that Tim would be doing so if he had any blood flow left. This was so surreal. Bruce had managed to keep his life mostly the same after he got bitten, for over three months now, and suddenly this kid – who was older than him – was standing in front of him and told him that there were quite a few vampires out there and that they had a network.

“And what now?”

“That’s up to you. We can add you to our e-mail server if you want or I can put you into the groupchat on WhatsApp if that’s more your style. Or you can ignore my visit and we talk again in a hundred years when it’s no longer possible for you to live as a human. Or as this human.”

“I don’t think I follow”

“You know, people start wondering what's going on if you don’t age. So, at some point you are going to have to let Bruce Wayne die and become someone else. My current alias is Alvin Draper, 15-year old art thief and full-time nerd. Before that I was Toby Parker, high school drop-out who overdosed. Jake P., died in a car crash. Juno Ray, bitten by a toxic spider. You can stay Bruce Wayne for another 20 years, you’re rich, so maybe even another 30. But it is harder for those of us who got turned young. Because people notice if kids don’t age.”

This was something Bruce had tried his hardest not to think about the last few months. He didn’t want to stop being Bruce, but one day he had to. That was a horrible thought. Bruce was the name his parents had given him, and it would be heartbreaking to lose that connection to them.

But then again, according to Tim he had another thirty years to figure that out.

“Then what do you do? I mean, how do you manage? You look like a kid; people aren’t going to believe that you should live alone.”

“Funky what people accept when you’re clever. But no, you’re right. We have systems for stuff like that. We built… families of a sort, with vampires that look older and those of us, who were granted eternal good looks. And then we move together every few years. Most of us still have their own bases and homes, but the possibility of just staying at one place for a bit longer is so much more relaxing.”

“And now that you’re here where is your ‘family’?”

At that Tim grinned. It wasn’t a good grin. No, Bruce was pretty sure that he hated that grin even if he had never seen it before in his life.

“About that….”

“Yes?”

“Please try to stay fresh, but I might not have been completely truthful earlier…”

“Spit it out, Tim”

“Easy, tiger. Okay, so, maybe, when Talia told us that she turned you, Alfred was like ‘Tim, he’s from Gotham do you know that guy?’ and I was like ‘You can bet on it, dude, he has a freaking mansion’ and Alfie said ‘How old is he then?’ and I said ‘My age, I guess’ and then Duke said ‘I always wanted to live in a mansion’ and Alfred said ‘It is time that someone else becomes the adult of this bunch’ and I said ‘I bet I can talk to him’”

There was nothing left to do but stare at Tim as he told his insane story. His brain was telling him that Tim’s inane story had a point, but his common sense refused to accept that. No. Instead he decided to stay silent. This had to be a joke. Please, someone tell him this was a joke. There had to be a hidden camera somewhere, right?

“So… what do you say about becoming a father?”

“Absolutely not”

“But we’re really cute! Like, really, really cute. Look at me!”

Tim batted his eyes at Bruce but all he could see was a lanky teenager with an unhealthy taint absolutely failing at convincing anyone to do anything.

“No”

“Man! I knew we should have sent Dick. You might not know him, but he is the best when it comes to convincing people to do something. It’s probably because he’s so pretty. And French.”

Once again Bruce had the feeling that he wasn’t really following Tim. The teenager switched between moods and thoughts like, well, a teenager.

“My answer is still no. And can you please go now?”

This was probably the safest option. Bruce didn’t want to be roped into something just because Tim managed to talk his way around him. The sad and dejected look on Tim’s face hurt, nonetheless. Bruce was un-dead, not a monster.

“Okay. I guess, I’ll see you around, then?”

“I guess”

Just because this was the best decision didn’t mean Bruce didn’t feel sorry. He wanted Tim and his friends to have a nice home.

“And tell your friends Good Luck, you know, in finding a house.”

“Sure”

He was just cultivating his own boundaries and still he felt like the biggest asshole on this side of the planet. No, he would stay strong. He wouldn’t carve.

When he opened his eyes, the clock told him it was 12 pm. He had managed to get four hours of sleep. It became harder and harder each day to find some resemblance of piece with his eyes closed, but he still tried. He wanted to at least keep up the façade of being human. Of having a daily routine. Not that that was important since it was Saturday and he had no plans whatsoever.

Hunger was gnawing at his throat and Bruce tried to talk himself into getting up and eating one of the rats that had infested the cellar. It was in that moment that he realized that it hadn’t been his hunger that had awoken him. It had been the smell of something cooking.

Where leaving his bed had seemed like a burden only moments before, Bruce was now already running down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen. When he pushed the double doors to the room open, it was not only clean for the first time in months, but also currently being used by a sensibly dressed man on the older side.

The man’s pan almost dropped onto the floor before he caught himself. Bruce wanted to say sorry for scaring him even though this was his kitchen and he didn’t know the person cooking in it. What was going on?

“What-?”

“Sorry, Mister Wayne, for scaring you. And thank you for letting us stay here. Breakfast should be ready shortly.”

“Hn?”

“Oh, of course. My name is Alfred Pennyworth, but most members of our enclave call me Alfred or Alfie. You might as well be welcome to do the same.”

Bruce didn’t know what was going on, but he couldn’t resist when the old man – Alfred – pushed a cup into his hands that was filled with what smelled like spiced blood. It was the most delicious thing Bruce had smelled in a long time. Completely throwing his caution out of the window, he took a sip. It was the best thing he had tasted in a long time, too.

Since his sudden vampirism three months ago Bruce had only eaten from the rat infestation in his basement and while they were capable of stilling his hunger, they tasted gross. This wasn’t gross. This was sweet, and rich, and delicious. Bruce could drink swimming pools full of this stuff and would still crave more.

Maybe that is why his senses didn’t realize that someone else had come into the room. Only the voice of the newcomer let him look up. It was a young man, maybe 18 or 19 with a deep tan and a child on his arm:

“Hey, Alfie! Do you have some cookies?”

“Richard, we talked about this, no sweets before breakfast.”

“But they aren’t for me! I swear! Dami here wanted some!”

Bruce, a mere onlooker in his own house, saw how Richard nodded in the direction of the child clutched against his chest. The kid seemed to be fast asleep or on his best way there. The kid was small, maybe nine or ten years old – biologically – and he looked a lot like… the kid looked like…

“Are you Talia’s kid?”

Wow. That was not smooth at all. Bruce was normally a lot more suave than this but this home invasion had somehow thrown him of his game. His little outburst made sure that every person in the room stared at him. It was Richard who recovered first:

“Hi. The little one here is indeed Talia’s kid. She is his mom-mom actually. They were turned together. Which makes Damian your uncle-step kid. I’m Richard. Or Dick as literally everyone except Alfie over there calls me. And you must be Bruce Wayne. Nice meeting you!”

Who were these people and what were they doing in his house? Of course, Bruce might be standing beside himself, but he did realize that these names – Dick, Damian, Alfred – all sounded suspiciously like the names Tim had used while trying to convince Bruce that he should let his family stay at Wayne Manor.

“Are you-?”

Tim chose exactly that moment to waltz into the kitchen only to come up short when he saw that Bruce was already there. His eyes switched frantically between Alfred and Bruce, and it shouldn’t satisfy Bruce to see him so panicked, but it did.

“Hello, Tim. Nice to see you. Want to explain why your ‘family’ is in my kitchen when I explicitly told you that that is not an option?”

No answer. At least not from Tim himself. The boy looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor while Dick wore a disappointed expression, that seemed to only be growing more exasperated the longer the silence went on. The chastising “Timothy!” came from Alfred, however. Bruce felt weirdly childish to gain this much glee from seeing Tim in a pickle. Before Bruce came to enjoy that fully though, Alfred switched his focus from Tim to Bruce:

“Well, then this must certainly be a shocking sight to wake up to. My – our – deepest apologies. We will be out of your hair shortly. As soon as we manage to find another house that fits our specific requirements, we will be gone!”

Now Bruce was the one who felt bad. These people had been searching for a house, a home, and now that they were here, Bruce was just throwing them out again. This wouldn’t do. Even if he had any right to demand that they leave. They had basically broken in. Tim had probably opened the door for them and invited them inside. And now here they were. Which was…

“You can take your time. Search for a new place but as long as there is nothing that suits you are more than welcome to stay with me”

Yeah. Bruce could deal with an old cook, a mouthy teenager, a nice young man and the child Talia had had and never told him about. He would manage that. His words had transformed the faces of everyone in the room. Where moments earlier frowns and grim looks had prevailed, now smiles dared to make themselves seen. Dick grinned, and Tim sent him a thankful look. Bruce definitely needed to have a talk with the kid. But not now. It could probably wait till breakfast was finished.

It was in that moment that something crashed, and yelling could be heard through the entirety that was the Manor. Bruce surged forward, ready to investigate just what had made that sound, but one look at his guests told him, that that was probably not needed. Tim met his eyes, a cheeky smile on his face and explained:

“Maybe there are more of us.”

“How many?”

“Well, there’s Cass, who will be no trouble at all, and Steph, who may be the reason for the crash, and-“

“Fuckers? There is a library in this house! A LIRBRARY! WE ARE NEVER LEAVING! This egg got the kale comin’ out of his ears!”

“There’s Jason”

The new arrival to this impromptu kitchen party was a pale scrawny boy, maybe 14 or 15, with bright blue eyes and a horrible accent, that sounded like it had climbed out of a gutter. The kid only glanced at Bruce before taking a cup of spiced blood from Alfred.

“So, the egg woke up, eh?”

“You’re Jason, I take?”

“Jason Todd’s to your service, man. Any giggle water or a gasper in the house? Or you a flour-flusher? A dewdropper?”

“What?”

“He’s asking you after your financial situation, which does not concern you at all, Jason”

Alfred came once again to his rescue. The old man seemed to be an angel compared to these intense and energetic children. He ushered Jason out of the kitchen, telling him to get the others and while Bruce contemplated once again just what he had brought down on himself, the kitchen fell silent. Dick and Damian were no longer to be seen anywhere and Tim had somehow managed to grab a cup and take a seat at the breakfast table. Or lunch table, really. It had to be close to 1 pm by now.

Alfred nodded in the direction of both of them before refocusing on the food in front of him. Only now did Bruce realize the amount of fresh ingredients the older man had prepared: Eggs, waffles, pancakes, little puff pastries,… many different sweet and savory dishes. Bruce hadn’t known he could still eat normal food and that must have shown on his face because Tim motioned for him to be closer:

“Ah, it’s easy to forget because you look so old, but you’re still new to this: We don’t have to eat human food, but it tastes good and as long as you don’t eat too much you can definitely still enjoy it. Alfred’s pancakes are a total banger!”

Bruce would have to trust Tim on that. Seeing that as his sign to take a seat at the table, Bruce did just that. And not one moment too early. The first ones to migrate back into the kitchen were Damian and Dick, the perfect example for the fact that Tim wasn’t only pale for a human but for a vampire, too. This time around Damian was walking by himself and were earlier the child had looked sweet and delicate, a scowl now crowned his face. Dick on the other hand was still smiling, curious eyes tracking every motion in the room.

“Hi. Sorry for suddenly vanishing, but I don’t really like to around people I don’t know when Dami is sleeping. But now you can meet, officially: Damian, this is Bruce Wayne.”

“I know, Grayson. It is a pleasure to meet the man my mother found worthy of introducing into our sacred ways, Mr. Wayne. I hope we are not inconveniencing you.”

The child spoke like an old man and Bruce couldn’t really blame him. He didn’t know how old Talia – or this kid – was but at some point, you probably had to face your age. Even though some of them seemed to be touched by time in ways others had not been, that much was obvious. Still, he didn’t want to tell the kid that Yes, they were inconveniencing him. So, he didn’t.

“Nice meeting you, too, Damian”

“I imagined you taller”

Before Bruce could answer, the doors to the kitchen/breakfast room opened once again, this time introducing Jason followed by two girls, both of an age somewhere between 12 and 17.

“Girls, this egg is Bruce Wayne, the lucky gobbler we’re stayin’ with. This Mr. Wayne is the almighty goddess Steph and our all hero, Cass.”

The girls looked at Bruce and Bruce stared back. There were so many people here. Bruce hadn’t talked to anyone outside of his business in like half a year. If you didn’t count Talia and Bruce didn’t. And suddenly, how many people were staying with him? Seven?

“Hello, I am Steph. You seem like a nice guy, don’t let yourself be pushed around by Jason. He is a terrible bastard and that is normal”

That had been the blonde one of the two girls. She smiled at them before taking a seat next to Tim. The other one, Cass by deduction, was still staring at him and slowly it started to creep Bruce out. But before it got truly too much, the door to the room opened once again. Again? Bruce had thought they were finally complete. He couldn’t take any more surprises. Not today. It was a teenager that appeared.

“Man, this house is pretty bitchin’! When Jason said kitchen, I wasn’t counting on this, that’s for sure.”

The teen was dark skinned, his hair cropped short. And Bruce had no idea who he was.

“And you are?”

“Guys! We talked about this! Stop forgetting to tell people I’m here!”

“I didn’t forget! Jason made a mess and then breakfast was ready!”

Tim was quick to defend himself and Bruce had the idea that he had just welcomed so much more trouble into his life than what he was capable of shouldering.

“Ey! I didn’t make a mess, you absolute arsehole! Know your onions: I told you about this dowdopper’s mazuma! Why you always being such a Mrs. Grundy, Timmers?”

“Oh snap, quit icing my grill, you old school hag!”

“And off you go to another choose off! Not the point, ya idiots!”

“Can we please eat?”

Apparently, the other people at the table not involved in the petty argument that had started between Jason, Tim and the mysterious newcomer wanted to get back to the really important things in life too: This delicious smell of whatever Alfred had cooked up.

But nobody reacted when Dick asked for a bit more quiet. Instead, they seemed to be getting only louder. That was until Cass stepped up and yelled:

“SILENCE”

All of them immediately closed their mouths. Even Bruce, who had just wanted to take a sip of his blood.

“Good. Now we have food”

As if she had casted a spell over all of them, the meal began. Bruce had to be weary about that one for sure. She was more than just capable. After a few moments of something Bruce could only describe as the quiet that came from a good meal and hungry stomachs, a timid voice spoke up. The new kid:

“I’m Duke, by the way. Kind of got lost in translation. Thanks for letting us stay, man.”

Bruce was already regretting it.

Life moved on. Or being un-dead continued, more accurately. Bruce kind of got used to all of these crazy people living in his house. His brain was still not accepting that these children were anything but, but the more often he caught Tim reading the newspaper, or Jason sitting in front of the fireplace with Jane Austen, the more he could actually believe it. At least a little. He found out that Cass and Dick both loved Bruce’s indoor gym and used it to train things Bruce thought to be not humanly possible. Damian enjoyed classy clothes, long naps and animals, which is why they started acquiring cats not even a week into the vampire clan’s stay. And Duke was an absolute space nerd. It was adorable, really. Slowly, Bruce also learned that it wasn’t really his place to play parent with these kids, after Steph threatened to bite off his throat should he ever dare to question her partying habits ever again.

Still, even after months and months of living together, some things surprised him. Like now, when he walked into the living room only to find Cass, Steph and Damian curled up next to the fire, sleeping. Bruce no longer slept at all and he found that most occupants of the Manor did neither. Except for these three.

(And wasn’t it just weird how all talk about the group of vampires moving out had stopped altogether?)

But before Bruce could do something foolish, like accidentally wake them up, a hand snatched him by his collar and pushed him into the next hallway. It was Dick who stared at him when Bruce finally managed to free himself. Of course. The young man was the most protective of the bunch, especially when it came to Damian.

“What?”

“Sorry, I didn’t want you waking them up”

“I wasn’t going to. Not that I understand why it would be so bad anyway. I mean, none of us need sleep.”

Dick was looking at him then and Bruce felt once again awfully inadequate. All of them would look at him like that from time to time and Bruce honestly didn’t care for it.

“What?”

“It’s just… we really should start teaching you stuff about vampirism in some sort of organized manner.”

“If that stops you from making that face at me, then yes please”

“It probably would. The thing is… Damian, Cass, and Steph are the oldest of us. Especially Dami. He’s 3000 years old. Give or take a hundred years. And Steph has been around since the Greek Empire started doing its thing. And when you get that old as a vampire… you get tired.”

“But you said Talia is Damian’s bio mom. And she wasn’t at all like Damian is when I met her.”

“Yeah, for one because the person, who turned both Talia and Damian, was Ra’s al’Ghul, a first-generation vampire, who found a very strong magic trick to let his mind stay fresh. Talia can sometimes dip herself in the magic juice to stay young and awake. But kids? Like Steph, Dami, Cass… the rest of us? Our brains weren’t done developing when we got turned. We’re stuck for eternity in state no mind is made to be in for longer than a few years. We tire faster, and at some age that means we start to go back to sleep.”

That was a lot to take in. The woman he had loved, who turned him into this thing, was apparently older than most known cultures. Bruce was once again left in the dust. So much information presented himself that he couldn’t choose what to focus on. Maybe that is why Dick continued talking before Bruce could find an answer:

“And one day, Damian is going to go to sleep and not wake up. That will probably take another millennium, but still… I’m only 270 and I can already feel my bones long for rest. When Damian has finally gone to sleep, I might go out in the sun.”

“The sun?”

Even Bruce knew that lesson in vampirism.

“I miss it so much. And before I drift off to sleep, I want to feel warm again”

The wistful look on Dick’s face didn’t fit with the joyful personality the young man usually portrayed. It hurt Bruce to think that Dick was already old enough to crave death. He himself could barely grapple with the idea of dying. He was so young by comparison – he was literally the youngest person in this house. 

“But sorry, I didn’t want to bring the mood down, just… don’t wake them up when they're napping together. They can all need it.”

And with that Dick had vanished around a corner, leaving Bruce to think about life, death, and whatever the heck their existence symbolized.

Tim loved the media room and after a busy business day Bruce could totally understand why: The room had been designed by caretakers in his youth who had wanted to make Bruce feel more welcome in his own home after his parents had died. This was a relict from the late 90s. The time Tim had died.

It was funny how they shared a youth, and now eternity. And still: Tim was stuck in the middle of his teen experience and Bruce in his mid-life crisis. Turned out they both still loved Super Mario World and Final Fantasy III, though.

After that they often spent their nights together battling Browser and other bad guys on consoles that once broken would be almost impossible to fix. It was then that Bruce asked a question that had haunted him for quite some time:

“How come you all talk so different? I mean, you use quite a bit of slang but so do Jason and Duke, yet neither of the older ones really does that.”

“It’s easy, dude. I could probably talk like a 2020 teen easily enough, but the younger you got turned and the more traumatic your life was the more stuck are you in your ways. Jason is a brat, but the Chicago of 1920 was a shit area. The kid can be happy he turned out as clear and logical as he did. And Duke? Well, that is his story to tell. But yeah, the fresher your memories of your fucked-up life are the more stuck in its ways you are. That sentence doesn’t make any sense, but you get what I mean…”

“I think I do, actually”

“Then can we return to Browser and Princess Peach?”

“Yes, we can”

They did.

Duke was sitting on the roof when Bruce found him days later. He was staring up into the stars and Bruce had seldomly seen such longing in a person’s face.

“You wanted to be an astronaut?”

“A pilot, actually. But that wasn’t possible back then, of course, except for those of us who enlisted into the army… and even then…”

“You didn’t enlist, did you? You were 15…”

“They took them young, but no. My brother did. And I wanted to be just like him.”

“There is nothing wrong with that”

“I know. But it kind of goes wrong when you sneak off into a military basis, get confused with an actual cadet and sent to Vietnam because you’re so afraid they’re going to kill you if they find out that you just snuck in to visit your brother. I mean, I died anyways. And so, did my brother, only for real. But damn…”

Bruce had to force himself to swallow. Another child. Another old man. Another horrible, horrible story.

“And the stars?”

“They were so clear that night I died. Really beautiful. I feel alive when I look at them. And then I imagine flying and I remember wanting to do that. It’s nice.”

They sat next to each other in silence for a bit. Both of them not knowing how to proceed. Both of them not wanting to proceed.

“You know, I have a private jet. I could let you fly that one, if you wanted to”

“Really?”

“Really”

They sat together on that roof until the sun threatened their sanctuary with the start of a new day.

Surprisingly it was Cass that loved movies the most. Neither she herself, nor any of the others could really explain why that was, only that she was the one who decided what to watch during movie night.

The Mongolian Princess – and hadn’t that been just a shock for Bruce to find out – loved Disney movies and because of that they were currently snuggled next to each other on the couch watching Mulan. Bruce would have thought the movie to be triggering, maybe, or in poor taste, but Cass loved it. They had seen it four times already but now was the first time that she actually said something while watching:

“I miss it”

Bruce stared at the talking red dragon and screen and wrinkled his forehead. It took a moment for him to realize that she didn’t mean Mushu, but the battlefield that came into view only seconds later.

“You were a warrior?”

“One of the best”

“Oh”

“I rode on my horse, and I brought victory for my father, and honor for my mother. It was… exhilarating.”

Bruce had never heard her say so many words in a row. It was nice. Her voice was soft and smooth and airy. Not often used and yet so much more beautiful for it.

“How did you turn into… this?”

“An enemy caught me. They wanted to kill me, but the monster they choose to do so, liked me, saw someone equal and turned me to be by their side. Damian was wilder back then.”

“Damian turned you?”

That was indeed new information. And how could Bruce have known? Most of them never spoke of the circumstances of their deaths, unless specifically asked. But still, didn’t that make them vampire relatives?

“Yes. He was different back then. But he liked Asia and rarely left it. We moved to Europe together in the 14th century after Steph decided to travel across the whole continent annoying us until we followed her to Greece.”

“Huh”

“I liked the 14th century. We had fun.”

Well, what else did he expect living with beings so much older than him. Would he grow this old one day? Would he ever be in her position? Bruce had no idea if he even wanted to. Any need to ask further questions was quelled when Cass redirected her attention towards the screen:

“Movie?”

“Movie”

Jason came to a surprise for Bruce. The boy was blunder and loud and crude and yet he also… he craved knowledge like no one else Bruce knew. It was pure joy watching him tear through the library, reading every book in it. It was fun to see him struggle with the laptop no matter how many times Tim explained what was going on.

It was less fun when Jason caught him staring:

“What you lookin’ at, old man?”

“I wanted to know what your reading”

“None of ya business”

“Sorry, then I’ll no longer bother you…”

“No! You can stay, egg. Just… I’m…”

“It’s okay, Jason.”

Sometimes these situations would end like this one: With both of them sitting next to each other, reading. Other times Jason would throw him out of the room. The boy seemed to be going through a lot and Bruce had figured out that life had not been easy so far for the kid. Which is why he let him have space most of the time.

Only this time was different. Only this time Jason was the one starring at him.

“Yes, Jason?”

“Wanna know a story?”

“Always. But what brought this on?”

“Dick and Timmers said I should start trustin’ or somethin’.”

“Only if you want to”

“Be silent, you dumb dowdopper.”

“Yeah, yeah. My lips are sealed”

“Idiots, all of you. But no, you know, how I’ve grown up on the Chicago street area, right? And Prohibition was a real bitch back then. It was hard to get giggly water, or goppers or a nice tomato to spend some time. And livin’ like I did, wasn’t nice either, on the streets and all. But then I got caught by the Chicago killer, ya know, and he had me good. Real good. I was practically dead already. And then Dick swooped in and saved my arse. Turned me. Made me join his stupid circus tour, but savin’ me he did.”

“Dick was in a circus?”

“Yea, he said, France got borin’ after so many revolutions. I think he left because one of his lovers was mad as hell. Anyways that’s my story. Thought I should share with the class and all… so, you know, ya can stop staring at me”

And Bruce did his best. But getting this tiny glance into the history of Jason Todd just told him that, should he manage to gain this guy’s complete trust, he would hear many great stories. And the more he thought about that, he wanted it. With all of them. Every tip bit of information made the mystery surrounding them so much more compelling. They were centuries old, in some cases millenia, they had lived through everything. And Bruce wanted to know everything.

It was later, a few years at least, that Bruce sat on the kitchen table, drinking the blood Alfred had prepared, that he realized something shocking: He loved these guys. And gals. They were his family. All of them:

Ancient Damian and the fact that he took afternoon naps and loved cats.

Funny Stephanie, who hid her 2700-year-old history behind a love for parties and pastries.

Warrior Queen Cass, who still forced Bruce to watch Mulan at least once a year.

Gentle Alfred and his tendency to always know what one needed without ever telling Bruce his secrets.

Empathic Dick, his history, and the fact that loving seemed to come to him as easy as pleasing a queen did.

Intelligent Jason, who would read every book on the planet if only given the chance.

Duke, the dreamer of the lot, who craved the stares and freedom and yet stayed with them.

Young Tim, who was so similar to Bruce and yet fundamentally different.

He loved them all. His weird-ass vampire clan family.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Damian — Persian Empire, 1000 BCE - 10-years-old  
> 2\. Stephanie — Ancient Greece, 800 BCE - 14-years-old  
> 3\. Cassandra — Mongol Empire, 1206 - 17-years-old  
> 4\. Alfred — Colonial America, 1775 - 57-years-old  
> 5\. Dick — Pre-Revolutionary France 1784 - 18-years-old  
> 6\. Jason — Prohibition, 1920 - 14-years-old  
> 7\. Duke — Vietnam War, 1965 - 15-years-old  
> 8\. Tim — Y2K, 1997 - 16-years-old  
> 9\. Bruce — 2020 - 38-years-old


End file.
